


Take Care

by serpentunder_t



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, more mature content later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:25:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpentunder_t/pseuds/serpentunder_t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie is injured and stuck in bed. She had to get Bass to help, now if only Rachel could just see it that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What do you need?

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me, I just watched Take Care on Netflix and I couldn't help myself.
> 
> Un-beta'd so please forgive the inevitable mistakes

It had been a total of 9 days since the accident. Not that Charlie was keeping track or anything. Except that she was. She was bored out of her mind, stuck in bed in the sticky Texas heat, and in a constant state of choking back tears.  
It fucking hurt.

Glancing down at her body, the yellow and green bruised covering the non-splinted parts of her, and the ugly gashes scattered across her stomach and legs. Biting her lip, she tried to steady her resolve. It hurt, it was disgusting, and she was laying there helpless.

The first few days had been okay, although painful. Miles had stayed with her, and Gene. But now Miles was called to Austen and the town was having a flu outbreak, so Gene was running around like a chicken with his head cut off. The only person left to help her feed herself was Rachel.

She’d tried, god had she tried. She didn’t want to hate Rachel, but damn if she didn’t get under Charlie’s skin in the worst way. And Rachel couldn’t seem to understand how much pain Charlie was in, physically and emotionally, so every time Charlie snipped, Rachel took it personally. The latest being a few hours ago. And now Charlie really had to piss and Rachel was off sulking somewhere.

Fucking hell.

It was three more hours before Rachel finally came back.

 

On day 10 of being bed ridden, Charlie had taken to seeing how far across her room she could spit.

 

Day 11 brought counting and naming the clouds that passed her little window.

 

Day 12 brought another screaming match with Rachel which ended in her storming out, leaving the water glass just out of Charlie’s reach. Charlie was desperately clawing her way towards the water, trying not to move her broken arm and leg too much, when she heard the door open. She immediately stiffened as she heard the footsteps- definitely not Rachel.

On instinct she reached down her waist, only to find herself weaponless. The night stand. She kept a spare revolver in the night stand.

She was reaching desperately, knocking over books and cards trying to get to her weapon, when her bedroom door opened.

“Need some help?” Bass asked her, with a slight chuckle to his voice.

“Dammit Monroe, I almost shot you.”

“No you didn’t, you can’t even reach your gun.”

“Fuck you.” Charlie was not in the mood to deal with Bass Monroe. And she sure as hell didn’t want his pity when he realized just how helpless she really was. “What do you want?”

“I saw Rachel helping Gene, and I thought I’d stop by while she was gone.” Bass scratched at the back of his neck.

“Come to see how far I’ve fallen?” She tried to keep her voice steady, playful, but she knew he picked up on the slight crack because his eyes softened as he moved to sit.

“You’ll be fine. Up and killing bad guys in no time.”

“Yeah, okay. Because a broken arm, broken leg, and four broken ribs is just so easy to recover from, right?” She knew she was being bitchy and unkind. She knew she was bitter and angry and wanted to fight fucking everything. But she couldn’t help herself. He was being so nice, and Bass was never nice, so it just pissed her off all the more.

He huffed. “Yeah I knew this was a bad idea.” He turned to leave, shoulders tense.

Biting her lip and swallowing her pride Charlie spoke, “No wait.”

Bass didn’t turn around, but he did stop walking. Waiting.

“I’m sorry.” She had tears behind her eyes, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “I’m just, well I dunno, I can’t do this, I’m so” She motioned at her useless limbs as Bass finally turned to face her. “Helpless.”

And just like that she cracked. Tears spilling and lips quivering.

Bass moved quickly across the small room, kneeling at her side. He suddenly seemed uncomfortable and a little lost for words, “What do you need Charlotte?”

“Help.”

 

 

From that day on Bass stopped by every day, usually bringing some whiskey with him. Within a week he’d even started coming ‘round when Rachel was there, which had Rachel particularly on edge. As soon as Bass would leave, Rachel would come storming into Charlie’s room, complaining about anything and everything. Particularly Bass. Charlie just rolled her eyes and drank some of the whiskey Bass had smuggled her.

 

Charlie had begun to smell, and her hair hung in greasy clumps. This wasn’t the normal, on the road type of dirty. That Charlie knew how to deal with, but this? This was like wasting away in your own filth kind of dirty and she fucking hated it.

“Bass, wanna do me a favor?”

“Sure, what?” He said, taking a long swig of today’s whiskey bottle.

“Could you get me a couple buckets of water and some soap?”

Bass’s eyes narrowed and Charlie could feel her face reddening, “Aren’t you supposed to keep those dry?” He motioned at the gear wrapping around half her limbs.

“Yeah,” She said sheepishly, “But I can manage... A little faith please.”

He just let out a long sigh, passed her the bottle and got up. He returned a few minutes later with a big bucket, only to leave and return with two more. “Rachel isn’t here right now, do you want me to go get her?”

Charlie paled at the thought of Rachel getting to torment her with a sponge bath, “Oh fuck no. Seriously Bass, please don’t.” She knew she was begging and she couldn’t even bring herself to be ashamed.

Bass just shrugged, “Okay then, come on.” He moved to sit next to her, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

“W-hat?”

“You can’t do it alone and if you won’t let Rachel help, then you’re gonna have to let me help kid.”

Charlie thought about fighting it, trying to maintain some semblance of pride and dignity before President Monroe, but one whiff of her hair and she gave in. She felt disgusting, and what’s a little blow to her ego to smell like a human being again?

They wrestled her out of her tank top and shorts, with much cursing and pain from Charlie. Propped up in bed in only her underwear she felt suddenly very self-conscious of Bass standing not three feet away. He moved to put his arm under her one good one, manipulating her useless body to the edge of the bed. She wanted to scream. It was crazy. She was a fucking soldier for god’s sake.

Lost in her own thoughts, Charlie didn’t realize that Bass had already soaked a rag in the water and was kneeling in front of her. The sudden cold on the bottom of her foot tickled so bad that she kicked out, not thinking. Charlie cursed as her foot throbbed, having just caught Bass squarely in the jaw.

“MOTHER FUCKER WHAT THE HELL CHARLIE?” Bass was rubbing his sore jaw, still a bit dazed.

“I didn’t mean to! It tickled!” Charlie fought the smile, but gave in when a bout of giggles came to the surface. Before she knew it she was laughing out right, ignoring the pain in her ribs, at the look on ‘President Monroe’s’ face. Even Bass was smiling.

Charlie felt a cold flick of water draw her out of her laughing fit, “Did you just fucking splash me?” She was completely taken aback. At least until he answered her with another flick of water, carefully aimed away from her bad limbs. “OH HELL NO YOU DID NOT JUST SPLASH ME”

Charlie watched, helpless as Bass lowered his hand back into the bucket, laughing as he brought it up and water littered the floor around her. They were both laughing so hard that they didn’t even hear Rachel come in, until she was standing in the doorframe, taking in the sight.

“Charlie.” Her voice was stern and ice. Dragging both Bass and Charlie out of their little world. “What in heaven’s name is going on here?”

“Nothing. Bass was just helping me with something.”

“In your underwear?” At that both Charlie and Bass flushed, looking away from Rachel’s glare. Their eyes met, and Charlie remembered that day in the school all those months ago. He gave her the same look of, ‘I’m going’, although this time there seemed to be slightly more remorse in it, while she gave him the same bone cold stare she did then.

Bass got up to leave, squeezed Charlie’s good knee, and walked out without acknowledging Rachel. Sighing, Charlie readied herself for the shit storm.


	2. Moving Day

The weeks were blurring together for Charlie as she waited impatiently for her body to cooperate. Bass had told her about how much she would have loved being bed ridden if television was still a thing, to which she scrunched up her nose and blew a raspberry at him. Sure it was childish, but she didn’t like being reminded of what the world used to be, it hurt her head to think of all the ways things would be different, the ways she would be different.

Bass was by her side when Gene finally took the bandaging off her ribs, telling her they had healed enough, and that her arm was in good shape. Her leg, however, was going to need time. Once Gene left the room, Charlie screamed. It wasn’t a sob, it was a blood curdling war cry. She wanted to get up and do something. Bass just squeezed her good arm and let her scream.

The next day Charlie was sitting up and doing exercises when Bass walked in carrying a suitcase.   
“What’s that for? Are you going?” She tried not to sound sad, but didn’t know how successful she was at the attempt.

“No, you are.” He started moving around her room, grabbing clothes at random, as well as her makeshift sling shot (for shooting peas at Rachel).

“What are you doing? I can’t walk, remember?”

“I’ll carry you.”

“Okay, what the fuck is going on Bass?” The sternness in her voice finally did the trick as Bass looked up.

“You can’t stay here.”

“Where am I going to go?”

“This place is driving you insane, you’re the farthest thing from the Charlotte Matheson I met in Philly that you’ve ever been. And it’s got nothing to do with your leg. It’s being stuck in here like a rat in a cage.” He motioned around the room. “Miles isn’t going to be back for a least another three weeks, and there’s a room on the main floor, so when you start getting more mobile you’ll be able to start doing things again. You know it’s a good idea.”

“So, you want me to come live with you?”

At that Bass rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, if you want to?” Suddenly self-conscious.

Charlie thought it was the best idea she’d heard in her entire life, and if she wasn’t stuck in this godforsaken bed, she thinks she might’ve just thrown her arms around him and kissed him. “Fuck yeah.” Her voice was husky, still reconciling the thoughts that had just crossed her mind.

“Great, let’s stage a jail break.” Bass was rubbing his hands and smiling his best evil villain smile. Which was saying something because he’d pretty much been an evil villain up until recently.

 

Rachel had thrown the fit of the century, while Gene had simply handed Bass a few sheets of paper with instructions and exercises on them before kissing Charlie on the forehead, “I’ll check on you at least every other day, if not more, okay kiddo?” Charlie squeezed him with her one good arm before Bass scooped her up like she weighted nothing and carried her out to the cart.

 

Bass’s small house that he was renting (with Miles, even if Miles usually slept at Gene’s), was a total 180 from Gene’s. Whereas Gene’s house had been old and filled with character, Bass’s was clearly a newer construction from just before the blackout, with what was once shiny chrome appliances that were now useless. Charlie took in the living room as he carried her in, noting the large stacks of books and weapons, with half drunk bottles on almost every surface. The hallway had a pretty wane’s coating, and as they passed the first door he nodded to it, claiming it was her bathroom.

Her room had a semi-new coat of paint, probably done when they’d rented the house, in a light grey color and four big windows, one of them facing the large old tree sitting in the back yard. The natural light and the lack of antiques brought a smile to her face, she felt like a whole new person already. Bass plopped her gently on the bed and scurried out. He returned with everything she could possibly want, blankets, whiskey, a notebook, some tennis balls (which he later explained where for throwing at the wall), and a stack of books. Charlie could barely speak she was so overwhelmed with gratitude.

“So it’s okay?”

“Yeah Bass, it’s okay.” Ever the rough façade, she opened the bottle and drank before she could let her emotions get the better of her. “So what’s on the agenda for President Monroe today?”

Bass didn’t flinch at the title like he had when she’d first started using it, it was nothing but a teasing nickname to him now. “I’ve got to water the garden and then I’m all yours. Kitchen is stocked, so what do you want for dinner?”

“President Monroe has a garden?” The smile that graced Charlie’s face was full of mischief, wanting nothing more than to follow him around and tease him all day.

“President Monroe didn’t, he had people to do that for him. But I do. I think there might even be some fresh strawberries ready to pick.”

Charlie smiled and nodded. Bass was half out the door when she shouted, “Can we have breakfast for dinner?” Bass laughed from the hallway and she took that as a yes, cuddling herself down in the bed, larger than what she was used to.


	3. You seem pretty thirsty

The next few weeks proved to be a blessed reprieve from the Porter household, Bass would run his errands in the morning, Gene would stop by, and then they’d spend their days talking. Sometimes Bass would come sit in her room and they’d read in comfortable silence. Charlie was still grumpy, being a cripple wasn’t for the faint of heart after all, but Bass was understanding. Sometimes he’d let her provoke him into fighting when she really needed to just yell at something and other times he’d just make a snide comment and leave her in peace.

Miles came home two days before Charlie was set to get the cast off her arm. He’d strolled right into the house and into her room at 1 in the morning, dropped his gear, and lit a candle. The minute he saw her he screamed.

“What the bloody hell? BASSS”

Charlie was laughing too hard to speak as Bass came running into the room, nearly colliding with Miles. “I thought you weren’t due back for another 5 days?

“I wasn’t, but I am. Care to explain.” Miles motioned at his laughing niece in his bed.

“Oh well, I, she” Bass couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

“I live here.”

“You WHAT?” Miles bellowed, rounding on Bass. “What does she mean she lives here? What did you do?”

Bass raised his hands, “I didn’t do anything to her. Miles, chill.”

“Where’s Rachel?”

“Right where you left her,” Charlie chimed in. “Bass saved me from eternal damnation from matricide.”

Bass was pointing at Charlie and nodding, as if to say, ‘see!’, and Charlie was having the time of her life. She’d missed Miles, and she’d missed messing with Miles.

Miles just huffed, running his hands over his road-worn face, “Whatever. Where do I sleep?”

“The couch.” Charlie and Bass said at the same time.

“The couch. You want me to sleep on the fucking couch, after weeks on the road, I get the couch,” Miles kept grumbling as he drifted down the hallway.

Bass turned to Charlie and she was suddenly taken aback by his apparel. His hard arms and lean muscles, and as her eyes strayed she took in the deep V that disappeared below the (very low) waist line of his sleep pants, accompanied by a trail of hair, and if she squinted she thought she could make out something under his pants. But before she could try much harder Bass cleared his throat.

“This ain’t a peep show sweetheart.” She turned bright red and was thankful that in the low light he couldn’t see just how her ears caught on fire. “Anything else you need?”

“Uhh, some water would be nice.”

He laughed, “Yeah, you seem pretty thirsty.” He left the room, still laughing. She heard him kick Miles as he made his way to drop off the glass.

“Thank you.”

“G’night Charlotte.” And with that he left, but Charlie listened to his footsteps until she heard his bed creak somewhere above her, mingling with Miles’ snores form the couch.

 

She tried to get comfortable, but she felt like she was burning up. The throbbing between her legs wasn’t helping matters either.  
She knew Bass was an attractive guy, and hell, maybe she’d even let herself fantasize once or twice, but he was still President Monroe. Wasn’t he?  
The heat wouldn’t subside, even as she listened to Miles’s snores, she could occasionally hear the slight creaking of Bass’s bed. Was he tossing and turn too? Or was it something much more wicked? The thought of the latter caused her stomach to flip as she played with the waistband of her shorts.

She wanted to moan, but bit her lip instead, sliding her hand over her panties, feeling how she’d already soaked them. She massaged at her clit, building the need in her belly, before finally pushing her panties out of the way.

She rubbed circles around her sensitive bundle, enjoying the slow burn. But when she heard Bass’s bed creak again, slightly louder this time, she inserted a finger into her own sticky mess, savoring the way her muscles reacted as she moved in and out before adding another finger, now moving both in a ‘come hither’ motion that was hitting all the right spots. Bass’s bed creaked again, and while picturing his hard body on top of her she flicked at her clit with her thumb. She was so close to the edge now that it felt as if she’d never get oxygen again. Holding her breath, she heard three creaks in quick succession and could all but feel Bass inside her as she came, hard. She turned her head and bit into the pillow as her orgasm washed over, letting out a few low whimpers into the quiet night air.

She stayed like that for a while, inside herself, savoring her release, before she finally withdrew. She inserted her fingers into her mouth and sucked off her juices with pop before getting comfortable and drifting off to sleep. She dreamed of Bass, in his garden.

 

The next day brought Miles officially moving into the Porter house, and so Bass wasn’t around as much because he was helping Miles move. ‘The least he could do for evicting him without notice’, Miles had said. Despite that, whenever Bass was around he’d get this funny look on his face, and he couldn’t meet her eyes. Charlie was suddenly terrified that he somehow knew, knew what she’d been doing last night, knew what she’d been thinking while she’d done it.

 

Finally the day rolled around for the cast to come off her arm. Everyone had come over to Bass’s to witness the ‘blessed event’ as Bass had taken to calling it. Things between the two of them where still off somehow, but they’d gotten back most of their banter, and for that Charlie was thankful. Even if Bass did keep her up at night.

Gene and Rachel removed her cast, as Miles and Bass Ohhed and Awwed for affect. Charlie kept her eyes tightly shut, trying not to cry as she felt the weight lift. Gene’s gently hand took her newly freed one and the tears started coming. Miles clapped her on the back, Rachel kissed her forehead, and Gene gave her a big hug before handing her a spreadsheet of exercises. Gene and Miles worked together to herd Rachel out of the room, saying that Charlie would need some rest from all the excitement (total bullshit, but whatever, she was grateful.)

Once everyone was gone, Bass came sauntering back in and threw up his hand in front of her, “High five for two good hands!”

She smacked him as hard as she could, which admittedly, wasn’t all that hard given the weakened state of the arm. “Ow, fuck”

“Did that hurt? Should I go get Gene?” The worry in Bass’s tone was enough to bring a smile to Charlie’s face.

“Nah, I’m just not used to it. I’m fine, really.”

He didn’t look totally convinced, but surrendered, sitting down next to her and grabbing the sheet Gene had left her. “So what do we have here?” He hummed and hahhed, going doing the list before handing her a squeeze ball Rachel had found. “Squeeze this.”

His tone was so serious that Charlie couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on Bass, let’s celebrate!”

“But your exercises...”

“Can wait for tomorrow. Today let’s drink.” So they drank and played poker. Charlie only spilled the deck two times while shuffling, and with each passing hour she could feel more strength returning to her arm.


	4. Wine Instead of Whiskey

Within a week she’d started asking about training again. She wanted to feel a gun in her hand, a sword, a crossbow, anything. She wanted to fight. The bloodlust had grown to a roar, as had the secret pit in her stomach whenever she and Bass exchanged their meaningful looks.

“So no fighting yet, but look what I found!” Bass came hollering into the house a week later, clearly proud of himself.

“What”

In rolled an old beat up wheelchair. “You’ve got to fucking joking? How is that surmountable to fighting?” Charlie didn’t want to wheel herself around, she wanted to run goddammit.

Bass looked hurt, and sheepishly spoke, “I thought it would let you get out of the house some. I set up some plywood over the front steps so you can go out…” Charlie suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

“Well where are we going?” Bass perked up.

“It’s a surprise.” He hauled her up and dropped her into the wheelchair, only to grab a handkerchief and tie around her eyes.

“This seems like something President Monroe would do.” Charlie joked.

“Did Miles tell you about that? It was one time, I was young, okay maybe twice.” Bass was stuttering, lost like a schoolboy in the headlights. Charlie's mind made the connection at the tone his voice held.

“YOU HAD SEX WITH A BLINDFOLD ON? WHAT THE FUCK MONROE” she was chackling like a mad woman as Bass wheeled her to her surprise. It wasn’t until they were outside and Bass dropped something heavy in her lap that she tore away the blindfold and quieted.

In her lap sat a Glock .17

She looked up at Bass and then around, they were outside, a good 25 yards from the big old tree in the backyard. Which was now sporting a lovely target painted on the side.

“Monroe I could kiss you.” Charlie spoke without thinking, but before he could answer she raised the gun and emptied the clip.

It felt damn good.

 

From that day on Charlie had a new routine. Bass would help wheel her out to the ‘shooting range’ (his name for it), in the mornings before he left and leave her with an assortment of weapons. Each day was slightly different. Two days ago he’d introduced her crossbow back into the mix. So she’d sit outside enjoying the morning breeze and target shooting until Bass came home from his errands, normally sporting fresh food and whiskey. They’d sit together at the dining table and eat lunch, and then embark on their afternoon adventures. Sometimes Bass insisted on her socializing, so they’d go into town, her rolling herself along. Charlie hated it. She hated everyone seeing her like that, but the gun draped at the side of her wheelchair helped her feel a bit more like herself. And somehow Bass could always tell when she couldn’t take it anymore and would make excuses for them to get the hell out of dodge.

She was finally starting to feel like the Charlotte Matheson that went up against the Militia and the Patriots again.

Miles had taken to coming over after supper for a round (or eight) of poker and drinks. Bass told Charlie he thought Miles must be going insane locked up in the Porter house, but Charlie wasn’t entirely convinced that Rachel hadn’t put him up to his evening visits.

 

The day finally came for the hard cast to come off Charlie’s leg and she sat there waiting for Gene to arrive like a girl waiting on a prom date.

“Calm down, he’ll be here.”

“Shut up Bass.”

“You’re Welcome.”

Their banter continued until the door swung open and Miles came charging through with a war cry, Rachel and Gene in toe.

Everyone held their breath as Gene sawed through the cast, but as he lifted it, Charlie beat him to it. Letting out a loud victory cry she moved to stand before Gene could try to stop her. Only to fall over into Bass.

Thankfully Bass managed to get his arms out in time, but Charlie still felt like she’d fallen on her face. “What happened? I thought?” She trailed off, trying not to cry.

“You’re fine kiddo, you just need time to readjust. Give it a few days of walking with help, and then you can use this,” Gene pulled out a cane.

“A cane? A FUCKING CANE? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?” Charlie lost it. She knew it wasn’t Gene’s fault, but damn if the news didn’t sting her to her very core. She was sobbing as she screamed, clutching at her chest and howling with all the pain she’d been biting back for months. Charlie wasn’t sure what was happening as she collapsed into herself, she just knew that Bass was holding her steady as she crumbled.

When her sobs slowed to sniffles she looked around, everyone’d gone. “Where’d they go?”

“I sent them away.”

“Thank you” She nuzzled herself deeper into his arms, letting herself grieve.

 

Charlie wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed like that, but she’d grown acutely aware of his body enveloping her. His strong arms, wrapped around her, his thighs keeping her from feeling the sting of the hardwood floors. She felt safe with him. And before her brain could decipher her jumbled thoughts she was kissing him. She could tell he was startled, but she kept pleading with him, egging herself closer to his warmth until he finally allowed her to deepen the kiss.  
She licked his lips before plunging her tongue into his mouth, he tasted of whiskey and strawberries. She let out a low sob as she clutched at his shirt, clawing to bring him closer.  
“Charlotte, wait.” His voice was husky and low, as he cupped a hand beneath her chin, dragging her tear stained face up to meet his eyes. She hated him for it. “We can’t.”  
But his eyes were dark, his breathe ragged, and she could feel his heart racing under her hands. She just shook her head and moved her tongue to his throat, nipping at the strong pulse there. She felt him let out a low moan and it made her feel powerful.  
Charlie grasped at that feeling, wanting to never let it slip through her fingers. She tore herself away from his throat and looked him dead in the eyes, “I need this.”  
Bass nodded. She knew, somewhere deep inside of her that he’d always be there when she needed him. Even like this.

She dug between them, trying to get at his belt buckle. But Bass steadied her shaking hands, letting her lead as she undid the clasp and moved to his zipper. Before she could take him in her hands, however, Bass had fisted his hand into her hair and was dragging her face away from the task at hand. He was kissing her, god was he kissing her. He nipped at her upper lip before moving to suckle the bottom one, slowly making his way down her neck. Charlie clutched onto his shoulders as she let out a whimper, begging for more. He moved her shirt out of the way as he made his way down to her firm breasts. ‘He’s a biter’, Charlie thought to herself between moans, as Bass raked his teeth across her tender nipples.

Charlie reached for his shirt and he indulged her, helping her rip it off his body. But then she felt him still, he reached around, kicked off his boots, and then looked at her. Taking Charlie in his arms, he moved to lay her down, as he began kissing up her recently freed leg. Charlie knew it was probably disgusting, just the sight of the pale lifeless skin made her want to retch. She must’ve let out a noise because Bass stopped, his eyes filled with meaning as he nodded, moving to the waist of her shorts.  
He shimmied them down her legs gently, leaving her spread out on the living room floor in only her panties. Charlie looked down and saw the tightness still trying to escape his pants as she pushed them down.  
Bass let out a moan when he was freed, and Charlie could feel the heat radiating off of him as he looked at her like a dying man in the desert looks at a well. He sunk down, burying his face in her wet panties, breathing her in. He nipped at the cotton between them and Charlie couldn’t help the yelp that came out of her. She wanted this, she wanted him. It wasn’t just the power, it was him. And suddenly she started laughing. Uncontrollable, complete laughter.

“Wanna fill me in on the joke?”

Charlie just shook her head, laughing even harder at the look of bewilderment on Bass’s face. “I’m, about to, fuck President Monroe” She sang out while dying of laughter.

“And?” He was starting to smirk, a chuckle rumbling in his belly.

“And you have no idea how long I’ve waited to do this” She laughed out, barely managing to get the sentence out.

Bass shook his head, laughing right along with her, “Yeah, well at least you didn’t want to screw your best friend’s niece.”

At that her laughs became full blown hoots, screeching through the quiet house. She wasn’t quite sure how long they stayed like that, tangled up and laughing like a couple of schoolgirls, but damn if she didn’t love every second of it. Their hands roamed, taking in every inch of each other while they laughed. Finally Charlie’s abs began to ache and she moved her mouth to trace the line of hair leading from Bass’s belly button. He was still chuckling when she came up for a kiss, and Charlie could feel his smile beneath her lips.  
He broke their kiss, “Wanna go on a date sometime?” Charlie was dumbfounded, and started laughing all over again. “What? Would being seen in public with me be that bad?”

“No, I just,” She was struggling to catch her breath, “Who the hell goes on dates anymore?”

“Well y’know, I just thought, since we’re doing this,” He motioned between their two bodies in various stages of undress, causing Charlie to giggle even harder, “We might as well drink some wine instead of whiskey and make it official”

Struggling to breathe Charlie sat up and tried desperately to plaster her sternest Rachel impression on her face, “Fine but no wine.”

“Deal.”

He reached up to seal it with a kiss, and Charlie knew she was a goner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's all folks.  
> Sorry for any potential blue balls and mistakes, it was un-beta'd as always!


End file.
